Santa Helena
by Theocrat
Summary: This original, action-adventure, Gothic, and humorous story is about the narrators' quest for wealth in a futuristic setting. Also, the evil spirit Saint Helen Eleven and other treasure hunters are looking for some ancient treasures! Please enjoy!


**Saint Helen**

**The Blessing of the Curse**

Somewhere on the island of Oahu, in the year 3768, I heard my mother complain to my father after she received the bills from the mail, "We'll never be rich! It's our destiny to be below middle-class!"

My father, a big, brawny man with a short, black beard, said no word but rocked in his old dark squeaky rocking chair, drinking the unsweetened coffee in his clay mug. Feeling a bit depressed, I rushed out of the door of our log cabin made of some mysterious black wood—maybe plastic! It was cloudy that day, yet the colorful tropical birds still chirped as they perched on nearby palm and pine trees. Treading on the deep green grass that stood about three feet high, I rested my chin on my tanned hand, rough and weary from all that packing and moving boxes into our "new" home.

I mused for about five minutes on how my family can survive here since the cost of living was so outrageous, but came up with nothing; thus, I walked back into my cabin, which was plagued with antique furniture that my mother was planning to sell. About five feet tall and a bit wide at the waist, my mother told me, "Matt, your friend Satoko is coming to visit in a few days—"

"We don't have spare cash to take her anywhere!" I said, but she countered, "You do!" Then, I said, "You haven't been giving me money since I was ten!" Yet, she retaliated, "But, that allowance can grow in the bank; you haven't pulled it out of the bank, have you?!"

"No, ma'am; hell no, ma'am!" I lied, "that money is growing like a tree planted by the rivers of water, but that's our emergency cash!!" She then said in a strict tone, "She deserves to have a good time here! At least you owe her that much." Afterwards, I said quite hotly, "Satoko? I owe her nothing!"

"What about those high grades she helped you obtain in college? What about that time when she rescued you from that burning building? What about that time when she saved you from that bully in the biology lab!?" I stood my ground. "I could've burned his

skin off with those chemicals, but, no, Satoko honey insisted on testing her kung fu and karate on that god-forsaken fellow! I hope he's with his mamma in hell for all his atrocities!"

"What about that $100 Starbucks gift card she gave you when you almost starved to

death before class!?" A tear rolling down my cheek, I put my hand on my heart and exclaimed after sniffing, "I owe her my life! She's been so good to me; therefore, by the grace of God—if He has anymore grace to give me—I shall return the favor!!!!!!"

Later that night in my sleep, I found myself walking on the water of a small lagoon surrounded by palm trees on an evening lit by a full moon. Shortly afterwards, out of nowhere came a grey-haired man in sky-blue armor and a red and gold cape. His chestplate was filled with all kinds of precious stones while a faint, silver glow emanated from his being. As soon as I recognized his face, I got on my knees, inquiring, "Lord Wyatt, what must I do to be saved?" He responded in his soft humble tone, "Saved? I thought you're already a Christian!" Then, I corrected, "No no no, I mean saved—from my financial 'crisis'!"

"Remember that story I told you—" he started before I stopped him with "Not Halloween Island!" But, his assured, "Yes, Matthew, Halloween Island, where Governor Saint Helen Eleven and her settlers lived before they mysteriously went missing. It is said in the history books from UMUC that St. Helen hid her vast treasure somewhere on Mt. Helen, a mountain that I cannot locate on my GPS (global positioning system), but I believe

it still exists somewhere on that haunted island—"

"And, you want _me_ to find the treasure and figure out what happened to the settlers—" He then stopped me by saying, "Correct! The reputation of UMUC is on the line!" Soon after, I awoke at noon the next sunny day…

Running down the stairs, I exclaimed, "Mom, Dad, I know exactly where to take

Satoko—" But, they yelled, "Boy, not Halloween Island! It's dangerous, and that treasure is a myth; you might not make it back alive!" I reasoned, "I believe—no, I _know_ that treasure exists on that island; I know I can do it! I just need to be there! And, if I die, I'll make even more money in heaven, and I won't be a burden to you!" They were speechless for a moment and said with an iota (a small amount) of excitement at the thought of seeing me gone, "Well, uh, if you think it's worth it, take my shotgun with you!" Therefore, I ran to the dark attic to get my mother's blue, eight-barreled loaded shotgun, which should give me an upper hand on the haunted island…

Soon afterwards, the door bell rang loudly before I ran down the stairs to see who it was. It was Satoko—a light-skinned, black haired young woman with phenomenal strength hidden in that slender frame! She was wearing light blue jeans and a red T-shirt under her black trench coat—I guess the air conditioner was on high in the taxi cab. Her smile seemed to say, "What's up, negro!"; among the heap of clothing and other "necessities" (nail cutter, polish, file, hair dryer, comb, brush, makeup—among other things) stuffed forcefully into her big blue bag was her golden, crescent-shape katana (samurai sword) Solar Moon, which was about four feet long, that she won after winning first place in a fencing competition! Yes! That might help us out on our journey…

"So, what's up, nigger!" said she, giving me a high five.

"Nothing—uh, interesting; I think I know a place that you'll love." As I spoke, I saw the faces of my parents, looking down, implying, "Oh, boy, this is NOT going to be good." Yet, I continued, "Ever heard of Halloween Island? No? Well, since today's Halloween, I thought I'd take you somewhere—uh, 'special'!"

"Wow, do we get to fight ghosts and goblins and stuff!?!"

"Yep, sister! And, we only have to pay for the boat ride! So, take that katana with

us—" I assured, yet she stopped me by saying, "Uh, are the ghosts holograms or machines or folks in costumes?" So, I answered, "Whatever it is, it's _legal_! Don't worry, nobody will sue us!"

With no hesitation, around 1:00 pm, Satoko and I, in my brown jeans, yellow T-shirt, and blue shoes, made way to our old, rugged car porch that housed our beat-up, dark brown Cadillac Escalade 5000; once turned on, this SUV hovers about one yard above the ground, since vehicles started to have no wheels since the thirty-first century. I overheard my father's whispering to Satoko: "Satoko, if you survive, try to come back with our Cadillac!" Satoko, thinking it was a joke, chuckled and insisted on driving the SUV (sports utility vehicle); so, I gave her the keys, which I thought was my last mistake! On the four-lane highway, I noticed, "Hey, Satoko, this is America! We drive on the right side of the—whoa! Watch that truck!" She turned to the left-most lane, cursing the driver as if _he_ were on the wrong side of the road. After some reckless driving, we arrived at the rocky parking lot next to the dock, where there was only one low-class wooden yacht that had barnacles stuck on the bottom of the ship; it had only one life boat on it. A Polynesian woman was walking hastily to her beige Toyota, the only vehicle in this lot besides ours…

"Hello there, ma'am!" I said, "We need a ride to Halloween—" She halted, wide-eyed, "Hell no, bra (brother), that island is no good. I came there and went back in the

same minute! Bra, that place is haunted! They don't call it Halloween Island for nothing,

yeah?" I took out my _expired_ military ID card—which said "OVERSEAS ONLY" and had only _one_ side of my face since I wasn't ready for the picture!—and said with a manly, CIA (Central Intelligence Agency) tone, "Listen, ma'am, my partner and I are ordered by the Hawaiian government to investigate that island." Satoko added, "Girl, you heard the man: if you don't take us to that island, we'll see you in federal prison!" Not knowing what a military ID card is for, she said, "OK, sista (sister), you two make yourselves comfortable in the yacht; I'll be there in a minute, yeah?"

The ship was barren—nothing except wooden floors and walls! There was a wooden counter and a man selling spam musu bi, a slice of spam and rice wrapped in a seaweed called nori. Politely, I asked the man at the counter for two musubis, but he said, "$3.45 each!" Outraged, I signaled to Satoko to teach this guy a "lesson"; she knew exactly what I was talking about: she put on her dark sunglasses that changed her appearance from a cute novice detective to a cold-blooded first-rate manslayer and uttered softly, "I want five spam musubis—" Before she could finish, the man responded, "Yes, ma'am; of course, ma'am! You can have as many as you like—free of charge…!"

Though Halloween Island was about five miles away from Oahu, it took us five hours to get there on this slow wooden yacht! In the meantime, back against the wall, Satoko took a short nap while I leaned my head on her shoulder, listening to some fast-beat techno music on her mp3 player… The Polynesian captain called us to the deck when the ship was about one hundred yards from the black beach, showed us the life boat, and gave us two oars, saying, "I'm not getting any closer to that island; you CIA guys are good at paddling, yeah?" We told her "Yeah, thanks" and jumped onto the boat, paddling to the forsaken island around 6:00 pm.

The sand, soil, and tree trunks on this island were pitch-black, and the leaves of the trees had a mysterious orange or purple shade! Even the "satanic" rainbow, pear-shaped fruits gave off a faint glow! Walking through the quiet, scentless scenery as the sun sank below the horizon, Satoko and I heard a "WHOOOOOO" sound nearby, scaring us to life!

Floating four feet off the dark soil was some kind of rounded marshmallow about four feet in diameter with blue eyes and a mouth—greatly resembling a video game character. With a look of excitement, Satoko exclaimed, "Wow, it's Kirby!" But, I screamed "Aaaagghhrr! It's the devil!" and stitched eight shotgun shells through his ghastly frame, yet the bullets went through him, not harming the ghost at all! I leaped out of panic, and Satoko caught me in her arms, running back to the dark beach, but our life boat wasn't there! Scramming for our lives as the sun was below the horizon, we made our way to a cave that was seemingly carved out of some hill; I turned back yet couldn't see the ghost! Still, Satoko and I ventured into the cave which had florescent light bulbs hanging from the ceiling! Even the stalactites and stalagmites (cone-like structures that sprout from the ceiling or ground, respectively) had Christmas lights on them!

"Satoko, is this a cave?" Her only response was, "Hell no!"

In the narrow passage was a white map nailed to a jagged, rocky wall; sadly, it didn't pinpoint the location of Mt. Helen. We afterwards found ourselves in a large room with a beige coffee table between a beige, leather sofa and a Sanyo flat-screen TV hung on a jagged wall; to our right was a extra large, black computer which had no buttons or switches but had the logo: "Dell: Complex science for simple living!" Before we could scan the rest of the room, a brawny man in his pajamas and wizard-like sleeping cap popped out of another doorway, exclaiming, "Oh my God! H—h—how did you get in here? Err, I forgot to turn on the energy shields again!" Recognizing his face, I inquired, "Are you Captain Arithmetic by chance? I only watched his show while I was taking algebra classes—" He then exclaimed, "Oh, great! Just GREAT! Now you know where my hideout is! Don't tell this to the media, or I won't have peace!"

"We aren't journalists," I assured, "We just want to know what you know about Mt. Helen—" Wide-eyed, the captain raised his voice, "The mountain of Santa Helena!? The summit of vast treasure? I searched for it on and couldn't find it; I even flew over this island ten times—in vain. We must find it, for my TV show hangs in the balance!" Satoko then gave a look that implied, "Treasure? Matthew, what the hell did you set me up for this time???!!!!! I thought this was an amusement park!!!"

I ignored her, saying to the captain, "By the way, do you know how to defeat ghosts?" He answered, "You'll need to learn the bright side of the Force; that's what the young folks call it, but its scientific name is Bright Arithmagics, the science of exorcism—" Cutting him off, I exclaimed, "Wait a minute—that's the stuff Lord Wyatt taught me, isn't it? I thought it was nothing more than some weird yoga exercizes!"

"It is, but it can also send ghosts and other monsters back to heaven, purgatory, or

wherever the hell they're supposed to go! Lord Wyatt used to be my teacher, but I came here to do some research on the dark side of the Force, Dark Arithmagics, the science of evil!"

"And, uh, what did you find out?" Satoko asked. His response was, "Only a hypothesis: the monsters on this island were not mutated by volcanic smoke but were summoned or reincarnated by Dark Arithmagics." I afterwards inquired, "So, um, how do we activate our arithmagics?" Soon after, he exclaimed, "You must say the magic phrase to warm up for the arithmagics at least three times a day: '1, 2, 3, life got better since I bought my Wii!!!!'" Satoko looked at him as if she were to say "What the hell was that!?!" but I uttered, "But—but, I can't even afford a _used_ one on !!" So, he asked, "Well, um, do you have a PS3, Xbox 360, or a PhD??"

"I have none of them!" I panicked, but he said, "But, you need to rhyme with a number! It's the only way!" Thus, I made up my own: "7, 6, 5, 4, I have $5, but I want more!"

"No no no no no!" the captain said like a machine gun, "You must say it with enthusiasm!" Ergo, Satoko and I did and got heartburn! Floating one yard off the ground, our eyes began to glow as we yelled, "Whoa, sir, how do we control this—" He replied, "Now, it's time to warm up the arithmagics! Try Hindu squats." So we did and were on the ground again, yet he continued, "Now, twenty-five push-ups…nineteen sit-ups…seven crunches…eighty-five lunges… Now, stretch out your hands and imagine the power of exorcism flowing from your veins to a target." Eagerly, we did as commanded, and behold, white streaks of lightning exploded from our fingertips, yet the lightning went through Captain Arithmetic; I guess "White Force"—as the younger generation calls it—doesn't work on everything… "Oh my God!" spoke Satoko, "I thought only God could do that!" Shortly afterwards, I said, "Well, uh, we have to get going; thank you, mister—"

"Beckham—Sir Allan Beckham, captain of the USS (United States Ship) Palin during World War VIII (8). Go forth and find your treasure, for, if you don't believe, you won't succeed!" I kept those words with me as Satoko and I rushed out of the cave.

It was dark now, and the invisible new moon didn't help one bit! We valiantly

marched through the "satanic" woods, weapons in hand, and met some more "Kirbys" along the way, banishing them with our new skills. Suddenly came female werewolves/foxes and giant yellow-green blobs with big eyes that seemed to say "How's it going!?" We summoned white holy flares that didn't affect the non-ghosts! By the time we figured that out, a werefox soared five feet off the ground, thrusting me backwards by a dragon kick to my chin, yet I rolled back onto my feet; before I could get a good aim at the fox-woman, I had to parry more kicks and punches with my eight-barreled shotgun, swinging it like a kung fu spear expert—though I wasn't… I seized the opportunity to give her a rifle-butt strike to her cheek and a low roundhouse kick to her right leg, followed by eight shotgun pallets to the abdomen. Soon after I blasted away more nearby werewolves and after Satoko chopped some blob-monsters, another group of fiends sprang out of nowhere, comprising ghosts, werewolves/foxes, and skeletons with semi-automatic rifles! Satoko, swinging her Solar Moon left and right, swiped the enemy bullets as if she were playing tennis while I heard Lord Wyatt's voice in my head: "Channel arithmagic energy into your shotgun!" Thus, I did and launched a shining shotgun shell into the air; at the snap of my fingers, the shell burst into a radiant rain of divine judgment, banishing ghosts and non-ghosts! I wasn't able to reload my shotgun, and more fiends rushed toward us! Charging her katana with arithmagics, Satoko slammed Solar Moon to the ground, emitting a blinding shockwave that cleared a portion of the dark meadow

of ghosts, although a small percentage flew over the shockwave. I threw more holy balls at the ghosts and bashed/kicked my way through more werefoxes and skeletons.

"Satoko, run! We don't have time for this!" A swift werefox dived to the ground to

grab my foot in order to bring me to a halt. I thrust the butt of my shotgun to her forehead

before I held her by the neck in front of me, using her as a shield to shield me from a ghost's satanic toxic breath which took care of the werefox for me… Blowing ghosts out of our way, we encountered an eerie, purple mist; once we crossed the violet fog, we were translated to another part of the island—I think…

The soil was still black, but the trees were all dead! The smell of pumpkins were

everywhere as we saw pumpkins with eyes and mouths, hopping toward us with a funny

"Heeheeheehee!" Since they were so slow, I didn't waste my bullets on them… Deeper in the shadowy forest was a headless black figure, encased in black armor, with a big dark shield and a five-foot-long rifle, riding on a dark horse that exhaled smoke from its nostrils! A large pumpkin hopped on his shoulders to be his _head_ before the large stallion advanced toward us! Like a marathon runner, Satoko charged and then slid on the ground so she could slice off the legs of the stallion with her spell-charged blade, while I shot the pumpkin off the horseman, who now was no threat since he had no brain; that was easier than I thought…

Walking up a steep slope, we came across that purple mist again! This time, behind

the mist was a chilling scenery of a mountain top. The snow mysteriously had a grey tint

to it, and the harsh frigid air blew Satoko's hair like a blow dryer. Before we could get to the top, I was halted at the sight of a red and gold treasure chest! Excitement kept me warm as I spoke, "Satoko, hahahaha! This is what we've been waiting for!—what the—" I was about to spew out a vile four-letter word, but Lord Wyatt's voice rung clearly in my mind: "Don't curse, or you might get cursed!" Popped out of nowhere appeared some spirit, hovering two feet off the snow; dressed in a grey witch outfit, the spirit looked like Hannah Montana—without blood, sleep, and bliss (happiness)!

"So, you must be St. Helen or Santa Helena or whatever those Latinos call you!" I said, but she countered, "And, you want my money or my treasure or whatever the hell you Latinos like to steal!" Yet, I reasoned, "You're a spirit; why do you need money?!" She answered, "The afterlife isn't cheap, you know; when you see Hades, you'll know exactly what I'm talking about!"

"Well, uh, what happened to the settlers here, and how did you become governor!?" I asked, making her put her hands up, implying, "Whew, don't ask me too much at once, man." She then answered, "I can't sing well; I always wanted to sing like Hannah Montana, but—errr, don't get me started on that witch! The settlers started moving to Montana to attend Hannah's concerts. So, I banned them from moving away from this island, but then, they started using the internet and TV to hear that witch's 'chants'; so, I forced my father to tax them to death with my Dark Arithmagics. He didn't listen to me; so—uh…I became governor and taxed them myself!" Satoko exclaimed, "Oh my God! She's the spirit of Hitler and Stalin combined!" And, I added, "Girl, if you want to imitate someone, you ought to imitate Hilary Duff! Hilary beats Hannah any day, right, Satoko!?"

"Hell no! Hannah's perfect! You must be dipping 'duff' (snuff)!" I stopped the

argument with "Whatever. Miss Eleven, we need to borrow this money—" Suddenly, she put her demonic paws on the treasure chest and exclaimed, "NOOOO! Mortals always buy things on credit; they never pay off their debts! That's why their descendants have to pay them off!" She afterwards exploded dark lightning at me, blocking it swiftly with my faithful shotgun. The battle lasted for about half an hour; so, I'll just hit the high points:

Dark flames exploded from Helen's feet, allowing her to flying through the evening

air, raining down black bolts of satanic justice, giving us a sudden scare. Satoko and I

mustered some Bright Arithmagic moves, but Helen was not hurt! Exceedingly frightened, I almost panicked until I heard Wyatt's voice in our heads: "Bright Arithmagics are weakened through fear! You must believe that you can defeat her! Faith powers up White Force! Just treat her like the rest of the ghosts you fought; she's no different!" By faith, Satoko struck her down with a spell-charged air wave from her katana swing. Charging my blue worn-out shoes with arithmagics and spinning diagonally in mid-air, I delivered a dozen spin-kicks, a magic-charged pallet, and some holy voltage, followed by Satoko's nine kicks and twelve spell-slashes! The dark saint, breathing heavily, slammed her palms to the snow, mustering eerie geysers that gave us some bruises; among other chain-attacks, she launched dark fire like a crazed woman who wasted her money on drugs and gambling. After our lightning and fire clashed for the next twenty minutes, Helen finally disappeared, leaving the money behind!

As soon as I picked up the chest, the peak of the mountain exploded into a fountain of lava, making us run back to where we came. Scratched by thorns and other objects as we darted through the satanic forests, we ran alongside the monsters that now thought of us—and Sir Allan Beckham—as fellow escapees, and dashed towards the beach, where that

wooden yacht was waiting about a hundred yards away! "Oh, look! It's them!" shouted the Polynesian captain to her friend, "I thought they went to hell! Maybe we should be CIA agents!" And, the _monsters_ yelled, "Hey, don't leave without us! I don't want to get scorched back here!" Since I wasn't a good swimmer, Satoko put me on her back and darted through the molecules of water like a swordfish while I kept a tight grip on the money…

As soon as Satoko and I arrived at my house in a new dark-green Chevrolet Suburban 3028 the next morning, my parents were more shocked than excited to see us…! Sakoto then looked at me, saying sweetly, "I LOVE Hawaii!" I responded, "I do now!" Eventually, UMUC's history books were labeled by the _New York Times_: "Extraordinary!" "Accurate!" and "Up-to-date!" This all wouldn't have happened if Wyatt hadn't empowered me with faith to take on any challenge!

The next year, Satoko and I took a vacation to Paris, France, and took lodge in a

Gothic-style hotel. That same night, alone in my room, I heard a "Whhooooo! My money, my precious! Stop spending it; give it back!" Sweat rolled down my face as I screamed, "Satoko, is that you…?"


End file.
